


Shared meals

by Stardiouses



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29172927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stardiouses/pseuds/Stardiouses
Summary: Spending so much time without human form brings certain inconveniences. Her stomach feeling as weak as her ankles, she already knew that this week was going to be tedious enough.After what felt like months, Pieck is finally able to sit and be part of a celebratory meal. Not that she will actually enjoy the food, nor the celebration.
Relationships: Pieck Finger/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 34
Kudos: 149





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This has a few mentions of feeling sick/throwing up. Also, there are descriptions of having trouble with eating (for physical reasons, but just a heads up).
> 
> Also, I'm not a native speaker. If you find mistakes or weird phrasings, feel free to let me know (I'd thank you!).

Breakfast 

It was the second time that she threw up this day, and it was barely past midday. Better avoid the third one if possible. Her throat still stinging, she wouldn’t mind skipping the celebratory meal. Well aware that the soreness will heal in the next hour, the whole process would still be a nuisance; her slow regeneration rhythm be damned. Going there without eating might be an option too, but the morning breakfast probed it would only bring wary eyes and judgemental comments. 

\---------------------------------------

Marleyan food apparently gained a reputation in Paradis, and most of the people just thought that she was looking down on the dry biscuits or the milkless beverages that were offered that morning. Others suspected that she was paranoid about getting poisoned (which was partially true, but that reason alone wouldn’t prevent her from grabbing a handful of buns). She didn’t feel like explaining why digesting food after weeks in Titan form was such a troublesome event. Having to rely on crutches in front of the people that wouldn’t have hesitated in killing her not such a long time ago was annoying at least, dangerous at worst. 

She glanced at the kids, a few tables away from her, stuffing themselves with a pie that was apparently made only for them. Reiner in silence, trying poorly to keep a relaxed face while talking to them. She found oddly comforting the way Annie was part of that conversation, being as upbeat as she has ever seen her ( _seen her_ almost a decade ago, or _seen her_ through Reiner’s slurred memories). She was putting up a good act for Falco and Gabi, even smiling now and then. She might join them later, for now, it would be a good opportunity to get more information about her surroundings, nobody would find it weird if she stayed next to the room entrance for a while. 

This place still didn’t feel quite right, but at least the kids were safe. If she gives it a thought, she doubted that it would come to that to her. There were plenty of issues to discuss and keeping all the remaining shifters together seemed more like a precautionary measure than an invitation to dialogue. They were staying in a big building between where Wall María and Wall Rose used to be. She could easily guess that it didn’t serve a military use in the past, the distribution of the rooms making it obvious. They were supposed to spend at least a few days there for celebration purposes, resources inventory, military planning, remembrance events… not that she couldn’t help but find the contradiction in some of those concepts. But, truth to be told, most of the people in the building were matchingly confused or overwhelmed. It was the first day of political peace since she was able to remember. Not that she could actually process the passage of time clearly. 

She stared at her untouched coffee, with a nostalgic sensation inside. The whole ambiance made it hard to shake off the feeling of familiarity, like someone she knew would touch her shoulder. She took a subtle sip of the drink, and she felt sick. It felt like someone would call her name. Another swallow, this time finding comfort in the bitterness of it. A group of unknown soldiers walking past her table, their heights and hairs tricking her eyes for a second. Nausea kicked in instantly. They walked away. A few mouthfuls later the coffee was gone and she felt her guts burning.

"Hey" Jean. Jean Kirstein. He stood next to her, eager to say something. To be more precise, it was clear that he wanted to ask something. His hand grabbing a plate with a few slices of bread, two spare fingers holding the handle of a cup that seemed to be too hot for the skin contact. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

Oh, that was the question, then. 

It was a matter of time before something falls off his hands, probably all over the table that she was planning to leave as soon as possible. "No. I don’t mind", she found herself getting stiff at the situation, the familiarity of it making another hole in her stomach. "Did you just arrive?", she asked pointing with her head at the plate he was placing in the middle of the table.

"Actually, I was supposed to have breakfast with some of the guys an hour ago at a meeting. Now it’s 8 am and I’m actually getting hungry". A lot of information and she didn't have to ask for it. But nice to know why many people were missing from this public meal. 

"Basically, you are here for seconds", a bad choice of word, maybe a conscious one at some point. She saw him making the connection, but he didn't let it show; also a conscious decision.

"Yes, the bread is really good actually. Have you tried it?", he gave the plate a little push towards her. 

She stared a the pieces of bread absentminded. It was so easy to forget everything that it actually scared her a little. The last week, the pain in her stomach, the loneliness the island has to offer, the senseless deaths. It was so easy to forget death and pretend that this was a bread like any other.

"Are you... ", he hesitated for a second. "Are you hungry?"

"I don't know", she gave him a somber fake smile thanking him for the implicit question and grabbed a piece of bread. "But let me try this."

The bread was easy to eat. The crust almost noticeable and the crumb still warm. It smelled like herbs and garlic.

Either she was eating too fast or they were being too quiet. There was only a bite left when she realized that Jean hasn't said a word, drinking his coffee without making much of eye contact. "How did the meeting go?", she grabbed that false feeling of normalcy with both hands.

"A little awkward. It was supposed to be just us, but a few high-ranked politicians showed up to present their condolences. They ended up making the whole thing feel like an informal award ceremony. It just seemed wrong. That's why I left earlier". She could picture the whole scene. ' _Us_ ', those who were left. 

"I guess you could re-arrange it later. I feel like this whole week would revolve around celebration at some point". The sole idea of it was enough for nausea to kick in again.

"Yes," he left his cup over the empty plate. "I'm sorry. It must be hard for you too."

She smiled again, this time a little less fake and a little more somber. "It's ok."

"If you feel like it, you could come with us tomorrow evening. I promise that it would just be us."

"I might feel like it", if the sickness and the fatigue allow her, she almost added. "But if you excuse me, right now I would like to go back to my room."

She started to get up slowly. If she wanted to make it in time before she has to actually throw up, she should grab her clutches and get going soon.

He stood up in front of her, luckily not making any movements to help her. 

Once she was fully balanced, she extended her hand. "Thank you, Jean. And I'm sorry too."


	2. Lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments, kudos and messages. I wasn't expecting it at all.  
> Same warning as the previous chapter about food/feeling sick

Lunch

After cleaning herself, she was ready to go for lunch.

At least as ready as she could manage to be. As time went by, she felt like she will never feel ready for anything on this island; still processing the events of the last week, her surroundings seemed off. It was easier to feed the paranoia and ignore the fact that if she lets herself go a little, she might actually get comfortable around the place. 

And that felt wrong.

Still a little dizzy after emptying her stomach, she decided that it was better to take a walk around her assigned room before going to the main hall. The crutches that they gave to her were visibly expensive, which was a nice gesture. They were pretty, but also pretty useless considering that they were almost ten centimeters higher than her recommended height. Walking was messier than necessary and she looked like a hanged ragdoll. But it was fine, it always was. Her arms will have to do most of the job until she feels better. Meanwhile, she will levitate around the corridors and maybe try to spot an infirmary in the building (which wasn't likely to be).

She took a look at the unmade bed and suddenly realized that this was the first time she had a room of her own since childhood (even a temporary one). The thought wasn’t that spontaneous, but it slipped into the front of her mind the moment she stopped blocking it. After that, she involuntary started to go over all the roommates she had. To say that a big part of them was gone was a euphemism, considering that only Annie and Reiner were still alive. 

This room was empty. 

The whole building was empty; as soon as she got to the corridor she realized that too. 

Hell, even the island itself felt like a big void ready to swallow the whole world given the chance. Maybe that's how the curse was supposed to work, like a constant pull claiming for every unfortunate soul that dared to go near it. And luckily for her, she was standing right in the middle of it, without anything to hold herself to; except for those tall crutches, two kids of that same height and her two friends (one broken and the other one being a girl that she barely knows after all those years).

With that in mind, she made her way into the central hall as quickly as she could, trying to get away from the somber thoughts that this damned place seemed to offer at every empty corner she looked. 

"Pieck!", Jean. Jean again. "Reiner said to tell you that they were taking Falco and Gabi downtown". He stared as if waiting for an answer. "There was a theatre play for children and they just found out". He kept staring, again with that half-question face from the morning, but his time there wasn’t a chair for him to sit. 

"Thanks for telling me. How long ago?", she could use the distraction and a little fun between the big theatre play Paradis has to offer.

"Oh, more than an hour ago. I don't think you can catch up with them,” he made a pause. “But I can take you there if you are up to try".

That was a shame, but seeing he was still standing like an awkward soldier making a report, she could still have some fun. A crutches' joke would be enough to take him off-guard. _Of course_ , she will never get to the town square, especially if the kids were leading the pace.

"No, I'll pass then. And unless you are planning on carrying me there, I don't think I can make it in time either". She kept her eyes on him, searching for a reaction.

"I thought about it, but a cart seems a fitter option. Not as luxurious as your suggestion, though". Apparently, she didn't take him off guard, but it was evident he was patting himself in the back for the quick answer. She had to suppress a smile at that. It looks like they both could use some fun. She was about to answer with something related to carrying him as a titan being a faster method, but he turned around before she could formulate the comeback. “I will gather some food”.

She saw him walking painfully slow towards a long table where some soldiers were sitting. They were all caught up in their own conversation near the wall, at least ten feet from the place where Jean situated and waved at her. She was supposed to follow him then; not that she had any other plan for the next hour.

As she went to the table, she realized that he was pretending to arrange his chair back and forth. If he thought that just sitting there waiting for her to arrive was somehow awkward, he was being silly, it would take her just a few more seconds. But it was a cute gesture anyway, even if he was the one making himself all awkward by inspecting the chair's legs. Why was it taking her so long? There was a ridiculously short distance. Either her arms were really tired or her weight was heavier than she remembered. She shouldn’t have stopped her pace. Also, the small race through the corridors suddenly seemed like the worst idea she could have; well, the worst after deciding to have coffee during breakfast. 

She was almost there and Jean was now fidgeting with his shirt cuffs. She needed other crutches. At this point, she would rather crawl towards the table, bipedal standards be damned. “Jean, would you get me something too? It’s a little hard to balance myself and a plate at the same time”. She could spare him the wait and free him from that weird protocol he was making up. 

“Yes, don’t worry”, he gave his chair a little shake and went right in front of her. “What do you want to eat?”

That was the most irrelevant question she could get on a day like this. _Anything, I’m starving_. Or rather _Nothing, I won’t be able to keep it in_. “Surprise me”.

He looked at the plates around them and started to tell her, “They are serving smoked ham, some boiled vegetables and I think the main dish is”, as soon as he went back to see her, he could easily notice that she wasn’t paying any attention to the menu. “Well, that would be the surprise part”. 

“Anything is ok, really”. That was technically true, in normal conditions at least. “Just don’t bring me much”. She kept changing her weight from one arm to another, trying to gain enough energy to walk those five or six remaining feet towards her chair.

He put that question face again and at this point, she was two minutes away from sitting on the floor.

“Do you need help to get to the table?” She was about to decline mechanically but she realized that it would be better than the crawling or the sitting on the floor alternatives. Also, there was something in the way he asked that made her feel like it was the most natural thing to do. She hasn’t pictured the new political scenario yet, but she was sure that they weren’t enemies anymore after everything that happened in the last week. And it would even be a stretch to call him a stranger. 

“Actually, I do”, she smiled in relief. So did he. “Just put this near the table and then get next to me”. She gave him the left crutch and saw him leaving it against a chair.

He came back and stood next to her, subtly moving his arm as if trying to guess where it was supposed to go.

“There are safe spots where you avoid feeling like a pervert and others where I avoid looking like a ragdoll. But they don’t intersect, I’m afraid”. She could spot the curve of his lips as he smiled to himself.

“Which one do you prefer?” 

“As long as you don’t lift me from the ground, it will be fine”. She was about to make an ambiguous comment, but she could spare him that too.

She was well aware of the height difference but she didn’t feel like deducing the most practical way of having him as support. The way he was using to figure it out was amusing. A few seconds went by as he was still scanning her with his arm, making his mind between her armpit or her waist. He went for the torso but he retreated immediately.

“Is this ok?” He asked while grabbing her waist.

She nodded and smiled at the situation “You know? The spot doesn’t make any difference. The key part is this”, and she leaned her weight against him. “It was fun to see you struggling though. Now, think of yourself as a crutch”.

“I hope you have fun with that, next time I’m lifting you”. He was barely making any physical effort at all, but he remained tense despise it. They start walking towards the table and he could feel the heat in his cheeks. Luckily she wouldn’t be able to see it from her point of view. He couldn’t take much comfort from that, considering that it was obvious that he was blushing. 

He wasn’t sure if it was because of the little mockery or if it was caused by having her body against his side. Not because of the physical element of it nor the sweet scent she had, it was rather the new familiarity that they got to find somehow during the chaos of the last days. She wasn’t a Marleyan soldier, she wasn’t a Warrior, she wasn’t a shifter. During that eternal fight, he got to know her outside of those labels and now he was having a hard time putting them on again. They didn’t fit anymore, but somehow she did and he wasn’t going to be the one to question it. 

“I’m enjoying this as much as you, but you can let go now”. Her voice surprised him. She was looking over her shoulder and it would be easy for her to spot the remaining redness of his cheeks; surely that was the cause of the shameless playfulness of her tone. He left her side and felt a pulling void taking place right in the middle of them. He took the chair off the table tried to get rid of the blush before she thought that he was some kind of creep.

She stepped back as she leaned against her right crutch. She used it as some sort of ladder until she sat on her chair. “Thank you”, she was having fun with this and it showed. 

“I will get us some food”, he answered quickly, getting off the situation. “And don’t worry about it”.

He left for what felt like a few minutes and she got to eavesdrop on the conversation at the end of the table. The soldiers were talking about gambling, nothing relevant. Also, they seemed to have an established code to discuss cards’ cheating tricks. Their only preoccupations appeared to be the local guards and maybe what she interpreted to be some kind of mafia boss that people were not supposed to gamble against. Again, nothing particularly relevant.

When the men started to talk about merchants, Jean got back with two steaming plates. He put them in the middle of the table and made a sign towards the end of the hall. “Be right back”

Less than a minute later he was back with a jar of water and two cups that he started to serve. He was pouring the first one when she got curious about the reason he was having lunch with her instead of his other comrades or friends. It was certainly odd. By the time he finished the second cup, she had already realized that none of those acquaintances were present. “I bought some ham…”

“Where are your friends?” She might have sounded a little blunt, but she couldn’t help but feel nervous at those absences. Something felt wrong.

“Same as the breakfast, we got together for lunch a while ago. After the morning incident, we didn’t get much time to talk by ourselves” He said while separating the food with a fork.

If he was lying, it was the worst lie he could have come up with. But on the other hand, sometimes the least credible the lie is, the more likely it is to be bought. 

But he wasn’t lying, he didn’t look like it.

“Jean, I need to ask you something”. He left the fork next to his plate and looked at her. She didn’t care about the answer he will give, but she needed the information he will give away while doing it “Are you lying?”

“No”. No. He definitely wasn’t.

“Would you lie to me?” A direct question that would require a ‘ _yes_ ’ for an answer if he was being sincere.

He was silent for a few seconds and nodded. “Yes. No”, he grabbed his fork again and looked at it, but then decided to focus on her instead. “No. I don’t think so. Even if I have to, I don’t think I could keep up with this again, not after everything…”. _Not after everything has been talked out_ she finds herself filling the sentence for him. “Everything is settled”.

She was about to tell him that she could lie to him and that would lie to him if necessary, but he didn’t ask. Maybe he didn’t want to know the answer, maybe she didn’t know how to answer that either.

“I’m tired too”, she leaned against the chair and grabbed a fork. “So, I assume this is the ham and these are sweet potatoes”. She changed the subject, she was indeed tired.

“Yes, and the meat cube is wild boar. It looks a little dry but it’s good”, he was serious now. The recent questions still roaming around his head while he started to roll the ham on his plate.

The air was heavier, but it wouldn’t be a problem, she could easily tell that the ambiance was prone to be mended but not broken; she could feel it. “Jean? I have another question”, she put on a serious face and search for his eyes. He was about to eat the ham but stopped mid-air. There was a second of worry and then he got to see past her.

“No, I’m not trying to poison you. It’s just really dry boar”. He smiled and started to eat the ham.

She smiled and stared at the food on her plate. The ham and the sweet potatoes would be easy to swallow but would hit her stomach like a punch before she could finish the meat cube. Maybe she should start with the boar, but the dryness didn’t excite her either. She started to cut the ham into tiny pieces, as if would make any difference. She ate a few and there was already a knot in her throat.

Jean was eating and telling her about how meat used to be a big deal on Paradis a few years ago. Judging the way people were devouring it, she was sure that it hasn’t lost much popularity. They weren’t to blame, though. The ham –bacon, actually- tasted perfectly sweet, it was a shame she couldn’t appreciate it. The sickness preventing her from enjoying the conversation too. She would have to slow down, the boiled vegetables seemed like a better option.

“If you don’t like something, you don’t have to eat it”, he looked a little timid. “I can eat them for you”. That took a weight from her shoulders she didn’t know she was carrying. Leftovers were a sensitive subject where she came from. While sharing a table with Marleyans, warriors were expected to appreciate their food effusively, and leaving stuff untouched was considered a major offense. But the trick was not getting caught; that, and having her whole unit willing to finish her meals.

“You aren’t supposed to leave food, right?” She asked before emptying the cup of water.

“You are not…” he looked for the expression” socially obligated to finish it, if that is what you are asking. If it goes to waste it would be a shame, that’s why we don’t mind sharing each other food either”. He looked a little puzzled. “And by the way, by ‘ _we_ ’ I’m talking about the people I know and shared tables with”. He was trying to picture if there was a main reason for her question; so, she clarified.

By the time they were done comparing dinner etiquettes, she has finished the vegetables and she felt like leaving the room as soon as possible. She could feel nausea again, although the distraction was enough to trick her for almost a whole meal. But she was right, the bacon was going to be a punch in the stomach.

“Jean, could you please finish the boar for me?” She asked with the most monotonous tone he has ever heard from her. 

He realized that from one second to another, she was gone from the conversation. Completely gone. She was tense and started to arrange the plate while eyeing around herself. 

“Are you ok?”, he started to get worried. He didn’t have a single clue of what happened, but she didn’t look well. “I can…” What can he do? What was going on?

“No”, she closed her eyes to make the room stay still. “I’m not exactly ok”, she grabbed the right crutch and hoped for a peaceful walk back to her room. She tried to explain something but nausea made her stop. Stop the talking, stop the distraction, stop the exit.

He looked at her and recognized the hard swallows, the slow blinking, and her sight avoiding the food. She was feeling sick. And really sick, judging by the pale of her face.

“You are sick” Yes. Not that she was making a good job hiding it. She knocked the crutch she was holding to the floor and grabbed the other while trying to stand up.

She looked around and discovered that nobody was paying attention. Not even after the noise the fallen crutch did. Not a single person was looking in their direction. She felt a little relief with that, but she had more important problems than showing vulnerability in front of her former enemies.

She stood up slowly, helping herself with the chair. “Jean?”, he was up by her side in an instant, firmly holding her waist. “Just take me out of here”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same as the previous chapter. I'm planing on a third chapter, but meanwhile, this could be the end. That's why it wil appear as 2/2.

**Author's Note:**

> I might add more scenes after this, but I'm not sure. For now it'll appear as 'complete 1/1 chapters'.


End file.
